


Two and One Together Is Three

by orangeCrates



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Clone Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 07:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2260356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeCrates/pseuds/orangeCrates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altair accidentally clones himself using the Apple. Malik (mostly) takes it in stride.</p><p>A kink meme fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two and One Together Is Three

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was for a threesome involving Malik, Altair and an Altair clone. Original prompt and unbeta'd fill [here.](http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2158.html?thread=12056686)
> 
> Please do not ask me why I decided that my first explicit PWP should be a threesome involving clones. Because all I could tell you would be that it seemed like a good idea at the time.

There are, perhaps, stranger things than walking into the Mentor's study and finding two Altairs occupying it.

If they exist, though, Malik has yet to experience them and they are not, at current, making his life more difficult.

There was a throwing knife in his hand the moment he opened the door and saw the scene in it and it did not disappear back into its holster until he was absolutely certain this wasn't some trick and there wasn't any danger in what the Apple had done (this time).

Once that was accomplished, Malik had looked between his Grandmaster and his clone and decided maybe this wasn't entirely a bad thing. Troublesome, maybe, but he could work with this.

Literally, he could work with this.

He dumps another small pile of papers on Altair's desk with something like cheer in his expression.

"This is the last of it."

While he'd rather Altair not mess around with the Apple, it was good that they had an extra set of hands. Not only that, but attached to those hands was someone else who could be trusted to read and sort sensitive documents. In the aftermath of Al Mualim's betrayal, they'd had to prioritize and get what must be taken care of right away, leaving everything else to be dealt with later. Even nearly a year later, there was still an incredible amount of backlog because the running of the Order meant new paperwork all the time.

Yes, Altair's mishap with the Apple came at a good time, indeed. They'd spent the better part of the day working, and even when the other Altair had been summoned to deal with a issues in the training area (something that would have all but halted their progress), they were still progressing smoothly with work.

Malik glances out the window and, judging by the light, it's now late in the afternoon, maybe an hour or two before sunset.

The sound of paper shifting has him looking back at Altair who was dutifully going through the papers Malik had left on his desk. They don't require any actual writing on his part, but needed him to read through them. He trusted Malik completely, but as far as Malik was concerned there was no such thing as being too careful. And, at any rate, it would be unbefitting for a Mentor to not know what was going on in his Order.

Still, Malik knows well that it's a chore for Altair to sit still for so long and he hadn't complained at all.

Malik leans over the desk to cover Altair's hand with his own.

"Thank you." He says when Altair looks up, "I know you'd rather be outside..."

"But two Atlair Ibn-La'Ahad cannot be seen walking around Masyaf." He finishes without rancour and turns his hand so he could lace their fingers together, "I know."

Malik had made sure to keep track of which was the original and which a creation of the Apple, choosing to send the original out into Masyaf unsupervised, leaving the clone here with him. Even knowing that, his fingers reflexively tightened, returning the hold. Because everything, from the angle of his jaw, to the warmth of his hand to the pitch of his voice were so familiar and even if, logically, he knows this isn't actually Altair he couldn't help but fall into their usual way of interacting, couldn't help but give him a fond smile.

"All the same." 

Malik draws his hand back finding himself more more relectant to do that than he should be. Altair's grip tightens minutely, but allows Malik to pull back in the end with a rueful look.

"You still believe I am a creature created by the Apple."

It really isn't fair. The Altair Malik remembers hating in his childhood was an arrogant ass who didn't give anyone around him a second glance. That he would be so perceptive to Malik's moods had been disorienting the first time and continues to be an annoyance no matter how often it happens.

Malik shrugs and answers honestly. "I do not know what you are."

In response, Altair sighs, "I am what you are: a being of flesh and blood."

"One that did not exist until this morning."

"In a way that is true." Altair concedes and leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, hands clasped. "But, it does not feel that way to me since I also have memories of growing up here in Masyaf. I remember the missions I was given, the places and people I saw. I remember..." And he trails off then ducks his head so his cowl shadows his eyes (but not fast enough that Malik didn't see the expression in them). "It doesn't matter, I suppose." He unclenches his hands, reaching out to pick up the piece of paper he'd been reading before.

This time, Malik is the one that sighs. For all that two Altairs made work move two times faster, it seems they also caused twice the amount of headache.

He leans over, slowly but deliberately places his hand over the sheet of paper he was sure Altair is only staring at and not reading until he looks up.

"If I thought you were dangerous, I would not have allowed you to sit here like this." That much, Altair should already know, but sometimes Altair would be struck by odd moments of doubt that Malik could never properly trace the source of. And no matter the circumstances, Malik couldn't help how his expression seems to soften for this idiot.

And, against his better judgement, he raises his hand and his fingers brush over Altair's cheek. "Whatever else I am uncertain of, I do trust you." Only when Altair bows his head in aquience, does he step back.

"Let's see if we can get through these before it gets dark."

~ + ~

In fact, they finish sorting through the papers and locking them up in their proper places just before the sun sets. They spend the rest of the evening lounging on a pile of pillows in a corner in quiet conversation until Altair (the other one) returns.

The door opens with a soft sound, purposefully made to let the occupants know he was coming. Altair stops in the doorway for a moment and his expression as he watches them is strange and inexplicably warm. But, Malik reasons, it's probably just the orange light of the sunset streaming in from the windows playing tricks on him.

Altair shuts the door behind him.

"I assume you've finished."

It isn't phrased as a question, so Malik doesn't bother to answer as Altair makes his way across the room before dropping down on the pillows as well.

Malik notes where Altair had placed himself, to his other side, so Malik sits between the two of them. But he notices it without investing much interest in it. It is a habit born from years of training to always be aware of your surroundings, one that doesn't quite let up even when he's safe in Masyaf, even if not to the same degree he would outside of these four walls.

The Altair-who-only-just-came-in, took his hand in his, runnin his thumb over the back of Malik's hand.

"Will you stay the night?"

Because, theoretically, Malik has his own room, though he doesn't always spend the night there. And on, most normal days, Malik wouldn't hesitate to accept the proposition. This time, though, he glances to his side, to where the other Altair is. His expressions is carefulyl hopeful, though neither of them made any move to pressure him or ask a second time. These were, after all, strange circumstances.

Still, the setting sun painted the room in a warm orange, casting dark shadows at the same time making everything seem to glow warmly.

And really, after a whole day spent with the clone, Malik has to admit whatever else he may be, he is still undoubtedly Altair.

He doesn't have a second hand to reach out for Altair's hand, so he looks right at the Altair to his left when he answers 'yes'.

As soon as the word is out of his mouth, he find himself dragged forward into an open mouthed kiss. Rough, calloused hands frame his face while another pair of arms snake around his middle from behind. Even through his clothes he can feel the heat of their bodies and Malik shivers when Altair mouths along his neck, hands stroking a line from his waist to his chest as a tongue pushes into his mouth.

For a moment he's not sure where to put his hand, but in the end brings it up with a muffled growl, tangles his fingers in Altair's short hair and angles his head to deepn the kiss, beyond caring if this might be a mistake after all (he was sure it wouldn't be).

~ + ~

Eventually, Malik insists on retiring to the adjoining bed chamber first, not wanting to risk anyone walking in and seeing two Mentors (that would be a disaster). But he doesn't complain when Altair draws him into another kiss the moment they step through the door.

It only takes a couple of stumbling steps for the back of Malik's knees to hit the edge of the bed and Altair pushes him to sit. They break apart long enough for Malik to make a quip about Altair's impatience but does nothing at all to dissuade him when Altair straddles him. They kiss again as Altair works at divesting Malik of his clothes by feel alone, letting his fingers linger and brush over the skin that's revealed. There's a thump of leather hitting the ground, a sound that Malik only pays attention to with half an ear as he works to strip Altair one handed while trying to continue kissing him.

They break for air eventually, and Altair mouths along his neck as Malik tips it back, biting back a groan. He feels the bed dip behind him and then there's another pair of arms around his body and a naked chest pressed to his back. He reaches back, groping blindly and turning his head to pull Altair into a kiss.

It is dangerous enough to want the things they do, even within an Order where nothing is true and everything is permitted. Trysts between men required a certain degree of discretion and trust, and, between that and the simple fact that Malik did not want anyone else, he's never actually done anything like this before.

It's strange and familiar in equal measures. 

Because there are hands drifting low to the waist of his pants, while another pair are spread over his chest, a mouth nipping and kissing his collar bone as another swallows every gasp and moan that's drawn from him. 

Because every touch is sure and familiar, because it's still Altair behind all of it and he's had practice and time to figure out exactly how to drive Malik over the edge. And Malik, armed with similar experience to retaliate with, gave back as good as he got, drawing Altair's lower lip between his teeth to nibble it as he dragged blunted nails over the edge of his shoulder.

There's a strangled moan, and it took a second for Malik to realize it did not come from the mouth he was kissing. He pulls back enough to stare at Altair (the one who was still mostly dressed), who was staring with unabashed want. Malik files it away (the fact that apparently Altair likes to _watch_ ), before drawing his hand back, then forward to catch Altair by the back of his neck and dragging him in. He places a line of kissses from the corner of his mouth along his jaw. Malik worries his earlobe as he continues what he started earlier, pushing Altair's robes over and off his shoulders. Altair shrugs it off letting it fall to the ground with a thump as he shifts, wedging one knee bwteen Malik's thighs, then the other, nudging Malik's legs apart until he was sitting with his thighs spread.

Then he frames Malik's face again and angles Malik's face up for another kiss. Malik gasps into it when another hand dips low and palms his cock through the fabric of his pants. Altair keeps his face angled up as they kissed, making it so Malik couldn't look down at what was happening. It made every touch that much more intense, his mind supplying the images he couldn't see and it was difficult to bite back a moan when the pressure suddenly disappeared only to come back when the hand went under the waist of his pants and gripped his cock in a loose fist.

Malik swears and he tugs at the hairs at the back of Altair's head in warning when both of them chuckle at his reaction. The irritation doesn't last long though, not when Altair's hand pumps at his dick, making Malik's breath come out in gasps. He leans back, head dropping to Altair's shoulder with his eyes shut.

Then he was being coaxed up, and he half-expected to be pulled into another kiss, but finds, instead, Altair (it has long since stopped mattering which one was the clone or the original) watching him. He strokes his thumb over the Malik's cheek bone.

"Let me watch you." He says, and there's something raw in his voice that makes Malik flush.

And Malik wonders briefly if he would watch like this if it were Malik's own hand touching himself. It was a fleeting thought, because soon it was difficult to think, impossible to do more than buck up into Altair's hand as the pace picked up. All the while, Altair keeps a firm grip on his face, open mouthed and panting. His golden eyes are fixed on Malik's face and he licks his lips when Malik lets out a bitten off moan. On Altair's next upstroke, he bows his head just enough so he stares at the Altair in front of him through his lashes and lets out another moan, this one uninhibited, broken and lewd and feels the way they both shudder.

A hand around his waist drags him back so what little space had existed between Altair's torso and his back disappears, so he can feel every twitch of Altair's erection pressed to the small of his back, and feel every pant ghosting over the back of his neck.

"Malik..." Altair takes one hand off Malik's face and grabs his hand and brings it to the buldge at his crotch. And Malik understands without him having to talk and hooks a finger into the waist of his pants, drags them down before taking Altair in hand.

They become a mess of panting, _wanting_ bodies. Almost mindlessly rutting against each other, grabbing and biting whatever bit of skin they can get to. Altair comes first, spilling his seed over himself and Malik's hand as he crushes their mouths together.

The kiss is sloppy and wet, but it makes something hot curl in his gut and Malik has to pull back even as Altair leans in.

"Wait--" He bites back a gasp when Altair's thumbs the head of his cock, and he is so close... "Altair, stop."

And he does. They both do actually and the realiztion that, _of course they wouldn't know who he was referring to_ comes a little belatedly. Malik chuckles weakly at it before he brushes the hands on him away.

"We should...move away from the edge before someone falls off." He gives the Altair still kneeling between his legs a light prod and a look as if to say 'and by someone I really mean you'.

Altair slides off the bed with a faint smile and then they all move apart, albeit reluctantly. Malik lies back closer to the center of the bed, strips his pants off, then, after considering his hand briefly, wipes it off then tosses the soiled clothing off side of the bed.

Altair watches all this with an amused smile, knowing that while Malik enjoyed the act itself he always rather disliked the mess it made. Then he crawls over, kneeling between Malik's leg and covering his body with his own. He leans down to kiss the edge of Malik's jaw, then licks and worries the shell of his ear. Malik tilts his head to the side to give him better access and breathes in sharply when Altair's hips grind down.

"Fuck." He says, because they're both still hard and it's not so much that the friction is welcome so much as _needed_. Desperately needed. "Do that again." But even as he says it, Malik is already hooking a leg over Altair's body and grinding up to meet Altair's movements. Their movements are jerky on the first few thrusts, but fall into a rhythm after that, faltering only once when Malik reaches between them to grab their cocks.

Altair has both elbows on the bed to either side of Malik's head, head bowed so their foreheads are touching and their breaths, warm and muggy and coming out in shallow pants fanned over each other's faces. It would be so easy to close that miniscule distance between their lips, but then Altair would stop making those needy little sounds...so Malik refrains. But they were already close before and it doesn't take much for both of them to be pushed over the edge. Altair comes with Malik's name on his lips and Malik follows close after and doesn't really remember what came out of his own mouth, it could have been another expletive or a name, he honestly can't recall as his leg drops from where it was hooked behind Altair's waist and he sinks back bonelessly against the bed.

Altair recovers faster because the man was possessed of a stamina that some days Malik couldn't keep up with (and he had decided to have sex with two of him...what had he been thinking?), he kisses Malik languidly, but chastely, knowning by now that Malik needed a little time to come back from his orgasm first (but still wanting to touch and to taste because it was _Malik_ and if such a thing could be possible, Altair thinks he may very well be addicted).

The bed shifts and there's a chuckle. And then there's a hand on his shoulder, making a trail from there to his hand.

"It seems you were busy without me." Altair, now completely naked as well, takes Malik's hand in his own and brings it up to brush a kiss over the knuckles.

Malik's finger curls around the grip and he quips back, still basking in the afterglow of his orgasm.

"Technically, I was busy with you."

Altair only lets out a faint hum and nips at one of Malik's knuckles in response. 

There's a short lull where one Altair plants kisses along his knuckles, then his palm and his wrist, while the other runs his hands over Malik's thighs and hips, sometimes only petting, other times kneading. For a brief moment, Malik misses his left hand, if only because he cannot really return the favour like this. He brings a foot up though, and runs it lightly over Altair's leg and up to his side then down again. Altair grins, catches his foot and leans in to place a kiss on the inside of his knee.

It's quiet and tender, but the moment is meant to be an intermission and not the end.

Altair squeezes Malik's hand lightly and he turns his head in time to watch Altair uncurl his fingers and take one into his mouth. For all that Altair sometimes had trouble finding the right words, the man had a wicked tongue and he used it to his full advantage as he sucked on Malik's finger, taking it into his mouth up to the second knuckle. He pulls back, dragging his teeth along the digit in a way that made Malik's breath hitch, before taking it back in his mouth. Malik feels his pulse racing as he does it again before letting the finger come free with a faint, wet pop. He kisses the finger tip before starting on the next finger.

Malik isn't the only one being affected if the interest stirring in Altair's loins is any indication and neither of them do anything to stop the display. Altair makes it to a third finger before Malik's fingers curl, dragging the one in the warmth of Altair's mouth over his tongue as he pulls it out. Altair lets his hand go and Malik cups his cheek, thumb pressed to Altair's lowerlip. His lips part and he flicks his tongue over the digit and Malik lets out a strangled sound before he's pulling Altair over to claim his mouth. Altair comes willingly and Malik sits up to meet him halfway.

When they break, Altair shifts so he's behind, with Malik sitting between his legs. He winds his arms around Malik loosely, bringing a hand down to stroke his half-hard dick. He shares a look with himself over Malik's shoulder. They seem to come to some sort of silent agreement as the Altair sitting behind him puts his hands on Malik's knees and coaxes his legs to open further as the one in front leans into kiss him, first on the mouth, then his chin and moving lower and lower along his body as hands knead the inside of Malik's thighs.

As he places a kiss below Malik's navel, he reaches to take Malik's half-hard cock in his hand, storking once, twice before letting go of it. His head dips lower and he licks a line from the base to tip before taking it into his mouth. Malik draws in a sharp breath as Altair bobs his head, slowly taking more of him into his mouth.

"Look at you." The hands on his thighs drift up, massaging the jut of his hip briefly before making their way up his front. Altair turns his head to whipser into Malik's ear and here's another strange thing: seeing Altair sucking him off, while simultaneously hearing him talk, feeling his breath ghosting into his ear, "If only you could see yourself, Malik." Malik's eyes flutter closed as Altair hollows his cheeks, practically panting at this point. "You're so beautiful when you're like this." One hand snakes across his waist as the other one crosses over his chest, coming to rest on his shoulder as Altair whispers dirty promises and endearments in his ear (how good he looked and tasted and how he was going to fuck him after and make him scream).

Malik does answer, not verbally, at least. Instead he bows his head, grips at the back of Altair's head with fingers that tremble and twitch every time he pulls back and flicks his tongue over the head. He pushes up into the welcome warmth of Altair's mouth, breaths coming out in short gasps as Altair sucks his dick looking for all the world like there wasn't a place he'd rather be than with his head between Malik's legs.

And still there was that voice at his ear, whipsering, "Do you want to come, Malik?"

Malik nods, but at the same time pulls until Altair comes up and off his cock. Malik yanks and pulls until he could kiss him on the mouth, a desperate press of lips and teeth and tongue.

"I'm going to fuck you." Malik says without preamble when they break the kiss.

One (or both, it doesn't even matter) of them chuckles. "Which one?"

And Malik scowls and sits up, pushing Altair onto his back and climbing on top of him.

"I don't care."

He leans down, putting his elbow on the bed as he kisses Altair again, nipping at his lower lip hard enough to draw a moan.

Eventually, Malik sits up and looks for where they keep the oil, only to have it handed to him by a grinning Altair. Malik frowns at it, but takes the offered item and gets off Altair.

"Spread your legs."

And he places the small pot beside him, scoops some into his hands and warms it as he waits for Altair to comply. Which he does, with more enthusiasm than one might expect from the leader of the Brotherhood of Assassins.

Malik waits for him to find a comfortable position before leaning over him. "Comfortable?" He asks as he liberally slathers the oil over Altair's opening, waiting for a nod before he presses a finger in. He takes his time opening Altair up, watching the way he pants, open mouthed and needy as he fingers him, first with one finger, then adding another. He watches the way Altair's fists clench in the sheets everytime Malik crooks his fingers before dragging out, then pushing back in. Watches the way Altair pushes down, practically fucking himself on Malik's fingers.

For a moment it's like his vision tunnels and all Malik could focus on was Altair, sprawled on his back and gasping Malik's name. It makes him _want_ in a way that has become familiar over time but remains over-whelming never the less. It's only made worse when a hand snakes around from behind and takes his dick in hand and strokes it in a loose fist.

Malik's breathing and movements stutter at the contact and it's almost too much (not enough). He takes a moment to gather himself before he pushes his hips back, grinding against Altair and revels in the way he swears. He pushes a third finger in and watches the way Altair writhes and his hand and the one on his dick fall into the same rhythm until Malik pulls out before brushing the hand on him aside.

The Altair lying flat on his back whines at the loss of contact and the sound draws Malik down to him like a magnet and he steals it with a kiss as he gropes for the jar of oil to slick himself before pushing into Altair's body.

He makes a few shallow thrusts, each deeper than the last until he's balls-deep inside Altair and then holds himself there, giving them both time to adjust. Malik runs a hand over Altair's side, tracing the ridges and dips of his muscles and the shapes of the scars there. He waits until Altair relaxes, and makes an impatiant sound and grabs at Malik's shoulder hard enough to created indents in his skin.

"Move." He hisses and Malik leans down to kiss him again before he pulls out enough to thrust back in.

The pace he sets is unrelenting, each thrust going in deep enough, he knows by now, to make Altair see stars. It doesn't let up even when he feels slicked fingers probing at his entrace. He shudders and gasps wetly into the kiss he shares with Altair, but doesn't hesitate to push back when the finger breaches the tight ring of muscles.

He clenches on the digit when he pushes back and there's another hand petting his hair and down his neck as Altair waits for him to relax again. Careless of what was happening above him (only knowing that he wanted Malik to _move_ ), Altair hooks a leg over Malik's back, trying to pull him back in insistently with a whine.

Malik chuckles weakly, "Still as impatient as ever." And he snaps his hips forward again, before drawing back and shudders when the finger behind him goes deep again. He does it again and again. Moans when a second finger is added, eventually followed by a third. It takes a few tries to find a rhythm that worked, but once they did... _fuck_ it felt so good. Malik isn't sure how he finds time to breathe when he's left breathless when he pushes forward into that tight heat and again when he pushes back against Altair's fingers. Every sound that's dragged from his mouth is wanton and wrecked and his only consolation is that Altair, with a hand pulling at his own dick under him, is no better off.

Then the fingers are removed and he doesn't have the time to process the loss before the head of Altair's dick was pushing in to take their place.

After that, the only sound in the room were their pants and the wet slap of flesh on flesh as they moved in time with each other. There were some words here and there, but nothing that even came close to being coherent. Malik's orgasm comes as a surprise, and he jerks with a grunt before spending himself. He leans his forehead against Altair's shoulder and nuzzles his throat, content for the moment to just lie there as Altair continues to thrust into him.

The Altair he was lying on top of draped his arms around Malik and drew idle patterns over his back. When Malik finally caught his breath again, he realizes he'd already come before this. Malik frowns, trying to sort through the haze that had been the moments before to rememember when that happened. Altair pulls out with a grunt, ruts against Malik's thigh a few times before he drops onto Malik's back gracelessly.

Malik doesn't entirely mind the weight, but he's not the one with two fully grown men lying on top of him. Altair grunts and unceremoniously shoves them both until they were all lying on their sides, with Malik still in between the two of them.

Malik is the one to shove them away with a sigh.

"We need to clean up this mess."

There's some grumbling and, really, it isn't that Malik doesn't want to just lie there and enjoy the afterglow, but he'd rather do it on clean(er) sheets and without being covered in drying bodily fluids.

~ + ~

When Malik wakes up in the morning, there's an abscence of a warm body in front of him. His fingers curl against the pillow before he wakes up fully and really takes in the loss, He sits up as much as he could, which isn't much when Altair's arm tighten around him. Malik tilts his head back and is concerned when he sees Altair's eyes squeezed shut as if in pain.

He gently untangles Altair's arm so he can turn to run a hand over his forehead.

"Altair?"

Altair releases a breath, but doesn't open his eyes, "It's nothing."

And Malik snorts because clearly it was _not._

"Don't lie."

"It's just a headache, Malik."

Malik clicks his tongue in disapproval. But pauses for a moment, "Your clone is gone. Do you think the two are connected?"

And that makes Altair open one of his eyes a crack.

"It might be." He sighs and shuts his eyes again, burrowing closer to press his face to the crook of Malik's neck. "I seem to remember doing paperwork yesterday, but I also remember working with the novices at around the same time."

Malik grumbles irritably, but places a hand on the back of Altair's head, stroking the hair there, "Then at least that damned Apple had the foresight to put things back to the way they were such that I don't need to explain everything to you again."

Altair grins into Malik's neck.

"You say that as if that is the only favourable thing to come out of this."

"Go back to sleep. Maybe when your headache is gone you'll stop saying such stupid things."

And he holds Altair there partly because he enjoyed the intimacy, but mostly to hide the flush on his cheeks.


End file.
